One Long Hot Summer

by Antonia Adams

  Or maybe I’d take him into my mouth, swallowing him more deeply than anyone had before, till he was buried in the soft cavern of my throat. I’d know tricks girls of his own age hadn’t even heard of, or would be too afraid to try, like getting my finger nice and wet, running it over the tight, untried entrance to his arse before gradually pushing it inside. The combination of my sucking lips and probing finger would have him exploding in ecstasy within moments, telling me no one else had ever done that to him, and it seemed so wrong but it felt so right.

  All just fantasy, of course. Something to get me through these long, sleepless nights, nothing more. It didn’t make it any less enjoyable; I just had to remind myself there was no chance of it becoming reality.

  ‘So it is OK if Giles and Charlie stay for supper tonight?’ Ryan asked, coming into the kitchen where I stood chopping vegetables for a stir-fry, my stand-by meal whenever I was catering for more guests than I’d expected.

  ‘Of course,’ I told him. ‘They’re welcome here any time, you know that. You should be able to invite who you want. After all, it is your house.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’ He looked so adorable, with his hang-dog expression, part of me longed to drop a kiss on the end of his nose and tell him to stop worrying.

  ‘It’s no trouble, honestly. If I hadn’t wanted to cook, I’d have made you order in a takeaway. Now, if you want to be useful, there’s a packet of egg noodles in the left-hand cupboard …’

  Fifteen minutes later, the four of us sat round the kitchen table, tucking in to beef, vegetables and noodles, jazzed up with a slug of sweet chilli sauce.

  ‘This is delicious, Lily,’ Giles said, his manners impeccable as ever. ‘Thanks for cooking for us.’

  ‘Thanks for providing the alcohol,’ I replied. The lads had turned up with a dozen bottles of pilsner-style lager, produced by a craft brewery on the outskirts of Bournemouth. Those we hadn’t yet got round to opening waited in the fridge, making it obvious they were planning to spend at least part of the evening here.

  ‘So,’ Charlie gestured at me with his fork, ‘Ryan says you’re a writer, and you’re here working on a book at the moment. But he didn’t say what kind of thing you write. Anything I should have heard of?’

  ‘Oh, they’re romance novels. Not the most highbrow reading for an English graduate like you, I’m afraid.’

  ‘But they are very horny,’ Ryan chipped in. A blush spread across his face as he realised he was in danger of giving the secrets of his nocturnal reading away, and he quickly amended, ‘That’s what Mum says, anyway.’

  ‘So how come you boys aren’t off out on the town somewhere?’ I asked. ‘After all, it’s Friday night. Isn’t that when all the action happens round here?’

  Ryan took a swig from his lager bottle before replying. ‘Everywhere’s just so packed at the moment, and it’s too hot to go clubbing. I mean, there’s working up a sweat and working up a sweat …’

  ‘Which is where Lily’s books come in, eh, mate?’ Giles grinned at his own remark, and I knew he and Charlie weren’t going to let up until they found out quite how closely Ryan had studied my work.

  Our plates were empty, and I rose to clear them from the table and load them into the dishwasher. ‘Oh, we’ll do that,’ Charlie assured me, taking the plates from me. ‘It’s the least we can do.’

  ‘Well, if you’re in the mood for dessert, there’s a tub of ice cream in the freezer. White chocolate and raspberry.’

  ‘Maybe later,’ Ryan said. ‘Why don’t we all get more beer and go through to the living room, eh?’ His look made it obvious I was included, and I took another bottle of lager from him with a grateful smile.

  We made ourselves comfortable in the living room. Somehow, I found myself on the sofa, Giles to my right and Charlie to my left. Ryan went over to an expensive looking sound system and hunted through the rack of CDs stored beneath it, tutting at his mother’s choice in music. At last, he found something that appeared to be to his liking. He slotted it into the machine, and an Ibiza chill-out tune filled the room, soft and hypnotic.

  Coming back to join us, he stretched out on the floor at our feet. Charlie handed him an opened bottle of beer, and he raised it in a salute. ‘This is the life,’ Ryan announced, before placing the bottle to his lips.

  ‘So you wouldn’t rather be in Thailand?’ I asked, thinking about the boys’ original plans for the summer.

  ‘It would have been fun,’ Giles said reflectively, ‘but they’ve got nothing to speak of in the way of surfing over there.’

  ‘Yeah, you’ve always got to weigh up the pros and cons,’ Ryan added, his words reminding me of the thoughts I’d had before coming here. When I’d made the decision to house-sit for Amanda, I hadn’t expected I’d ever find myself relaxing in her living room with three fit, intelligent and funny men barely in their twenties – and fighting a wholly unsuitable attraction to the hottest of the three – but here I was, sipping from my beer and feeling thoroughly at home.

  ‘Why don’t we play a little game?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘What did you have in mind?’ My tone was wary, expecting him to respond with “strip poker”, or something equally predictable.

  He must have known there were lines I wasn’t prepared to cross, for he replied, ‘I was thinking of a round of true confessions. We take it in turns to reveal the most outrageous thing we’ve ever done. Are you all up for that?’ We nodded. ‘OK, who’s going first?’

  ‘I will,’ Giles replied. ‘It happened last summer, when we went down for that weekend in Rock.’ The Cornish town he referred to was the biggest party destination for young people with money who wanted to surf, have casual hook-ups and dance till dawn on the beach. It struck me as Giles’ natural stomping ground. ‘It was the first time I’ve ever done a hang 11.’

  ‘A what?’ I asked, baffled.

  ‘You know what a hang ten is, Lily?’ When I shook my head, Giles enlightened me. ‘You stand right on the edge of the surfboard with all your toes hanging off the end. It’s a tricky manoeuvre, but not impossible. Well, I got talking to this Aussie guy, Jarrod, who told me if you do the same thing stark naked, it’s a hang 11.’ He paused for a moment, allowing the implication to sink in. ‘So I thought I’d give it a try.’

  An image flashed into my mind: Giles, stripping out of his wetsuit and climbing on to the board, paddling out till he hit a suitable wave, then getting into the required position to ride it home. His cock would be as sturdy as the rest of him, and I was certain he’d been quite a sight, if anyone had been around to watch his antics.

  ‘Fun?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘Mate, it was amazing. You’ve got to try it. There’s nothing like rolling round in the surf naked, especially on a hot night.’

  ‘Well, that’s nothing,’ Charlie said. ‘The most outrageous thing I’ve done is have sex in the stacks of the university library.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ryan looked at Charlie with wide eyes, as though he suspected his friend of lying.

  ‘Yeah. It was the final term of our second year. You lot all had exams to study for, but I had to write a dissertation. Ten thousand words on the unreliable narrator in 20th century literature. Anyway, it meant spending a lot of time in the library, and I’d left most of the work I had to do until right at the last moment. I don’t know if you remember, but at the time, there was a really cute library assistant working there, Kendra. Scottish, with long, black hair and a sexy giggle. Had the most spectacular tits and used to wear these tight T-shirts that showed them off a treat.’ He smiled at the memory.

  ‘And that’s who you fucked?’ Giles asked, a trace of envy in his voice.

  ‘Yeah. I was working late one Friday night, and I mean really late. I had about three days to go before I was due to turn the dissertation in, and I still had a whole section on The Turn of the Screw to write.’ He swigged from his bottle. ‘But I suppose you know all about what it’s like to be up against a deadli
ne, Lily.’

  If only you knew, I thought, but I simply nodded.

  ‘Well, I must have been the last student in the place, because suddenly Kendra’s at my elbow, telling me it’s gone ten o’clock and I should be thinking about leaving. She was looking particularly hot that night, in this low-cut pink top that left most of her breasts exposed. I tell you, I could have crawled into that cleavage and stayed there for the rest of my life. But I just powered down my laptop and started stuffing my course notes into my bag. That’s when she put her hand on my arm and told me that, actually, she’d quite like me to stay.

  ‘Now, I know a come-on when I hear one, and Kendra and I had been giving each other these flirtatious looks for weeks now, so I was pretty sure where all this was heading. If I hadn’t got the hint by that point, she left me in no doubt about what she wanted when she slithered down to her knees and kissed my cock through the fly of my jeans.’

  By now, you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Giles and Ryan were hanging on Charlie’s every word, and even I was anxious to know how the story would end.

  ‘Part of me still thought this was a dream, that I’d nodded off over my text books and any minute now the old dragon of a head librarian would come over, wake me up and tell me to go home to my digs. But when Kendra pulled my zip down and guided the head of my cock into her mouth, well, I knew this just had to be real. Nothing had ever felt so good as those soft lips of hers surrounding my knob, and the way her tongue flicked over the tip – oh, man!

  ‘I’d have happily stood there and let her suck me off till I came, but she had other ideas. After a couple of minutes of licking and slurping my length, she let me drop from her lips, then draped herself over the desk I’d been working at, looked at me with this real saucy expression on her face and said, “Fuck me, Charlie.” As blatant as that.’

  ‘And you didn’t worry that someone might come and catch you at it?’ Giles asked.

  Charlie shook his head. ‘My dick was doing all my thinking for me by then. Wouldn’t yours have been? But even though they had security patrols on campus overnight, I doubt they ever ventured down as far as the library stacks.’ He paused, took a swallow of beer. ‘I haven’t even told you the best bit yet. When I flipped Kendra’s skirt up and went to pull her knickers down, I got the surprise of my life. She wasn’t wearing any. Now, I don’t know whether she’d gone into the ladies’ and removed them before coming to find me, or whether she’d been bare beneath that little skirt all day. The thought of her climbing ladders to put books on the highest shelves, giving anyone who cared to look a glimpse of her naked pussy – well, if I’d had any indication she’d been dressed like that when I arrived at the library, I wouldn’t have got a stroke of work done all day.

  ‘Luckily, I had condoms in my wallet, otherwise it would have meant a dash upstairs in the hope the vending machine in the toilets was working. Kendra wriggled her arse at me while I rolled one on my cock, letting me know just how keen she was to have me inside her. So I got behind her, parted her pussy lips with my fingers and guided myself home. It was like sinking my dick into wet silk; I could feel the heat of her through the condom, and she was making all these little moans and whimpers as I started to fuck her. She told me she wanted me to go as hard and deep as I could, and what a lady wants, a lady gets, right? After a couple of strokes to get used to the feel of her, I started really slamming in hard, pushing her against the table with every thrust. Kendra was bucking her arse back at me, and I knew I wasn’t going to hold out very long, buried in her tight cunt and hearing her urge me on with some seriously dirty talk. “Do it, Charlie,” she kept saying. “Give me a fucking I’ll never forget.”’

  I listened, rapt, to Charlie’s story. The way he told it, I could see the two of them in my mind, Kendra’s long hair flying around her face in wild abandon, Charlie holding her hard by the hips and thrusting deep into her welcoming pussy, buttock muscles flexing hard with every stroke. It was the kind of fast, spontaneous sex I hadn’t had in longer than I cared to remember, and my pussy had grown damp in response to his tale. I looked over at Ryan, and for a moment our eyes met. His expression was unreadable, but I was sure if I glanced at his crotch, I’d see a definite bulge there.

  ‘Another few strokes was all it took,’ Charlie admitted, bringing his tale to its conclusion. ‘Kendra had her fingers in her crotch, rubbing her clit, and I felt her pussy clutch hard at my cock as she came. The orgasm I had, feeling her milk every last drop of spunk from me, almost blew my head off. I’m surprised they didn’t hear the noise I was making clear across campus.

  ‘When it was over, I gave her a kiss, we got dressed and went our separate ways. The next time I went in the library, the following Monday afternoon, I couldn’t see Kendra anywhere. When I asked after her, I was told Friday had been her last day on the job. I suppose you could say I’d been her leaving present.’

  Charlie sat back, gauging our reaction to his adventure. Giles was shaking his head in disbelief, not quite sure whether he believed what had happened or not. Ryan shifted in his seat; like me, he couldn’t fail to be aware of the growing tension in the room, and the feeling that, with each story, the stakes were being raised.

  ‘So who’s next?’ Charlie asked. ‘Go on, Ryan, why don’t you tell us the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done?’

  Ryan shook his head. ‘There isn’t much to tell. I don’t know that I’ve ever done anything to compare with your exploits.’

  ‘Oh, come on, mate,’ Charlie urged him. ‘There has to be something – or someone – that stands out in your mind.’

  Thinking about it for a long moment, Ryan finally said, ‘Well …’

  Just as he was about to launch into his story, the phone rang on the other side of the room. The sound made me jump, and I realised I’d been holding my breath in anticipation of hearing all about some secret part of Ryan’s past.

  Rising to my feet, I said, ‘I’d better go and see who that is.’

  ‘Just check the caller ID,’ Charlie suggested. ‘If you don’t recognise the number, let the answerphone pick it up and Ryan can get on with telling us his story.’

  ‘It’s not my house,’ I reminded him gently. ‘I don’t recognise any of the numbers.’

  The number flashing on the call screen had an 00 1 area code. That meant America; more specifically New York. Amanda had been in touch from that exact number at least twice a week since she’d flown out for the gallery opening.

  I picked up the handset, knowing she would expect me to be alone and waiting for her call. ‘Hi, darling!’ She sounded positively chirpy. It was hardly surprising. Given the time difference, it was late afternoon over there. Cocktail o’clock, Amanda would have called it.

  ‘Amanda, how are you?’ The mention of her name was like a cold downpour in the steamy atmosphere of the living room. Giles immediately gathered together the empty beer bottles, preparing to dispose of them, while Charlie started hunting under the coffee table for the flip-flops he’d kicked off when he’d sat down.

  ‘Fine, fine. You wouldn’t believe how well things are going over here.’ From the tone of her voice, this was going to be no quick social call.

  Ryan caught my eye and mouthed the word, ‘Coffee?’ I nodded, and he disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘So, tell me all about it,’ I said, taking the phone handset over to the sofa and curling up on the cushions with my legs tucked underneath me.

  ‘Well, the reaction to the exhibition has been incredible. Roberto says he’s never seen anything like it …’ I’d noticed as the weeks had gone by, Amanda had dropped Roberto Almandi’s name into the conversation with increasing frequency. He’d been prominent on the photos of the party held to mark the opening of Amanda’s exhibition, and with his aquiline features and shock of ash-blond hair, I knew he was just her type. Her relationship with him hadn’t yet moved from strictly professional to something more intimate, otherwise I’d have heard all the juicy details b
y now. ‘He’s even talking about extending the exhibition by another fortnight, just to maximise the sales potential. Tells me it won’t be long before anyone who’s anyone is clamouring to own an Amanda Carter original. And would you believe I’ve sold one of my reclining nudes to none other than Janie Lee Richmond?’

  ‘That’s great,’ I replied, reeling slightly under the volley of information, ‘but who is she, exactly?’

  ‘Oh, Lily, don’t tell me you haven’t heard of her. She presents the Channel 8 morning show, with the guy who was on Celebrity Survival Island – you know the one. Anyway, I was a guest on the show last week, and Janie Lee loved my work so much, she went straight down to the gallery that afternoon and wrote out a cheque for Study In Blue. Said it’d look perfect hanging on the wall of her penthouse on Central Park West. But more importantly, how are you? Getting all the peace and quiet you need?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been doing some writing, if that’s what you’re asking.’

  ‘Darling, that’s marvellous. I can’t wait to read that novel of yours when it’s out in print.’

  You’re not the only one, I thought, given the speed with which Ryan’s working his way through my backlist.

  ‘Everything else here is fine,’ I told her. ‘The weather’s good, Dexter’s getting plenty of exercise …’

  ‘Lovely. But tell me, you haven’t heard from Ryan at all, have you?’

  That was the exact moment Ryan chose to return to the living room, coffee mugs in hand. He placed one down on the table and I gave him a little wink in gratitude. I needed to phrase my words carefully. Amanda still didn’t know her errant son had come home for the summer; as far as she was concerned, he was partying the night away on a beach on Koh Samui.

  ‘If I do,’ I told her, ‘I’ll be certain to let him know that he should drop you an email.’ I looked directly at Ryan for the last part of the sentence, making sure he got the hint.